Nothing But Tragic
by Innoverse
Summary: Percy would do anything to save his friends, even if it meant giving his own life. After all, a hero's fate is never anything but tragic... Oneshot, Percy-centric with Percabeth parts, character death and blood. Requested by EmMarie96.


**Hey, guys, it's Rachel with another one-shot. This is a request from EmMarie96 for a... Percy death scene. Oh god, guys, I cried so much writing this. It's so heartbreaking... So, I'd recommend a box of tissues if you're an easy crier. **

**I'm working my way through the rest of my requests, though, I promise.**

**Anyways, enjoy! (I was listening to Back to the Sea by Adam and Alma to get me in the mood to write this... it makes it that much more intense.)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJATO.**

**(this wasn't beta-read, expect mistakes)**

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_**- Nothing But Tragic: Percy's POV -**_

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_Wasn't my shirt white?_ Percy thought to himself as he looked down at his body. He'd been completely drenched in golden ichor, permanently staining his jeans and shirt, spattering all of his shoes. There was the occasional spot of red where a monster had sliced at him, but it was nothing serious. That didn't mean he didn't feel like someone had backed up and run him over with a truck. His arms felt like they were about to fall right off.

Percy glanced over at Jason, who was standing beside him, panting, his hands on his knees. He was about in the same condition—winded, covered in gold, and clutching his sword in his right hand. The monsters hadn't let up for quite some time, and though Percy hated to admit it, Gaea's army was pretty formidable, even if they could die now. Between exhaustion and wounds, Percy wasn't sure how much longer they could keep it up.

Jason shaded his eyes with his hand, looking at the oncoming wave of monsters. "Oh god, here come more."

"How long do you think she'd gonna keep it up?" Percy wondered.

"It's like a game of chicken," Jason muttered. "Keep going until one of us gives up and decides it's not worth fighting over."

"It's always worth fighting for," Percy said matter-of-factly.

Jason smiled tiredly. "Definitely."

They plunged back into the fighting, and Percy practically lost touch with everything that wasn't his body, his sword, and the monster currently in front of him (not that they stayed around long). He was hardly conscious of any pain or exhaustion, or anything that would slow him down because he just wanted to _get this over with_. He was sick of fighting, not for the first time in life. He'd give anything for a nice, long vacation—

Suddenly, his gut wrenched with that sense of dread that only demigods know. He whipped his head to the side, and saw Jason, standing merely a few feet away from where Percy was swiping at a dracaena. His sword had been knocked out of his hand by a giant hellhound, which was now looming over him, it's fangs dripping saliva onto the ground...

Time seemed to slow down. Suddenly, Percy could hear nothing, and see nothing but the hellhound and Jason. His feet moved before he could even register the thought to call Jason's name, and before he even realized he'd eliminated the monster in record time. The hellhound raised it's paw—a good firm swipe that would probably take off Jason's head—and Percy launched himself towards the son of Jupiter.

He slammed into Jason's side, knocking him over just as the hellhound's paw swept downwards. All Percy could hear was the rush of blood in his head as claws dug into his stomach, tearing the fabric of his shirt to pieces. He didn't even feel the pain until they'd hit the ground, Percy rolling a few feet away from Jason from the force of the impact.

His vision blurred red, and he curled into a ball, vaguely aware of the dying howl the hellhound made as Jason ran it through, the shower of golden dust and drops of ichor that rained down. He felt something warm and wet trickling through the fingers he had weakly clutched over his abdomen. Blood. His shirt wasn't stained gold anymore, but it was crimson, the color of blood. It pooled on the asphalt of the street they were fighting on.

Too much blood. There was too much blood.

Jason shouted something Percy couldn't hear since his ears were ringing, and crouched down next to his wounded friend, grabbing his shoulder. He rolled Percy on his back, his face becoming a mask of horror as he stared at the gaping wound. Percy could see it written all over his face—the exact things that he'd been thinking just a moment ago when the pain had been duller, and he'd been able to think. Too much blood.

There were more footsteps on the pavement, and with a cry of terror and alarm, someone dropped on their knees beside him. Annabeth, her curly blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, her own shirt smudged with ichor and dirt. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes as she slid next to Percy, gently cradling his head in her lap. Part of him was glad she was with him, the other half screamed for her to go away, to not have to watch him die.

Everything sharpened into focus in one painful swing, and suddenly Percy could acutely feel the gashes in his stomach, hear the monsters storming their way across the pavement, hear the words that Annabeth was saying.

"Water," she half-shouted at Jason, her voice laced with panic. "Is there any water around?"

Jason shook his head mournfully. "There's no a lake for miles. We have bottled water and ambrosia back at the ship, but..." He looked at the steady stream of blood dripping out of Percy's fingers, and then said softly, "there's no time."

Annabeth choked back a sob. Percy stared up at her, wanting to say something comforting—the last words of comfort he'd ever be able to offer her—but his voice stuck in his throat. What do you say when you know you're dying? What do you _do?_ He suddenly thought of his mother, of Grover, and Camp Half-Blood... he'd never even gotten to see any of them again. Never said a word to his mother, never got to hug her one last time.

_I'll make it home. I promise._

He was going to have to break that promise.

The restful, accepting peacefulness he'd been feeling about death abandoned him, and survival instinct kicked in. _I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die..._ Tears rolled down his face. He never cried. But maybe... maybe he was realizing that his was the first journey was going to have to make completely alone.

He grabbed out for Annabeth, ignoring the fact that his hand was coated in blood. She held on tight, and murmured, "It's okay, Percy," her voice was breaking. "I... we'll be together one day, okay?" She kissed the top of his head.

"No," he moaned, finding his voice. "I don't want to die." It was so childish, and he knew it was unavoidable and that he was making things worse, but he couldn't help it. This couldn't be the end. Not after everything he'd done for the gods, everything he'd given already... no, this couldn't be the way the Fates had weaved his life. Two months of true happiness in his entire life... that he would find the one person he couldn't live without and then have to _leave_ them...

_A hero's fate is never anything but tragic._

Why had he thought that he could be different? That he would be the one to live?

Annabeth ran her free hand through his hair. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I... just... wait for me, okay?"

"Okay," he murmured.. "Okay." Then, his mother's face flickered into his vision. "My mom..."

"I'll tell her..." Her voice cracked. "I'll tell her you love her."

He nodded. For the first time, Percy saw tears on Jason's cheeks. "Why did you save me?" Jason asked. "We hardly know each other..."

He thought of Thalia, the way she'd hated talking about her family, the way she'd nearly lost everyone in her life. Jason meant everything to her. "Your sister... my fatal flaw..."

Suddenly, it became very hard for him to breath, and he coughed violently. He sank back against Annabeth's lap, staring at her face and her eyes, determined to let it be the last thing he saw. She gripped the sides of his face, and kissed him one last time. "I love you," she murmured. "Always will."

"I..." the words choked in his throat, and he internally screamed, _No!_ He had to tell her... had to... His train of thought slipped. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a little while...

The yelling and sounds of the war muted, and the pain faded.

_I'll see her again,_ he thought sluggishly. _I'll see them all again..._

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***cries for a million years* I'm so evil... he didn't even finish saying 'I love you...'**

**Also, one last thing, no more requests as of now. I have a lot already, so... I appreciate the fact that you guys want stuff from me, though. :P**

**Reviews are always appreciated... *sniffle***


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